Changing Seasons
by DracoDew17
Summary: As the seasons shift so does Hermione and Draco's relationship with each other. PostHBP
1. Autumn Leaves Are Falling

A/N: This is a short drabble series that is comprised of four parts. No more, no less. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. :)

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter.

**Autumn Leaves Are Falling**

She watched him from the window-seat of the dormitory she shared with the Head Boy.

The same dormitory she most likely would have shared with him if he hadn't participated in the fiasco of their sixth year.

The Ministry of Magic had not closed the school following Dumbledore's death, after all, and the Minister himself had threatened to take Harry, Ron, and Hermione's wands away if they did not return for their seventh year. Hermione, having been informed of her appointment as Head Girl, was not too terribly disappointed, but Harry and Ron were anxious and it showed. Harry especially was itching to play his part in the war and it had caused a rift in their friendship when Hermione tried to get him to focus on N.E.W.T.S. instead.

Malfoy had been discovered not too long after fleeing with Snape, and surprisingly, it was Harry's own testimony that had cleared his name citing "severe duress" as the cause for his actions. It was the first time, and perhaps the last, he would ever show thanks to Harry Potter. Malfoy was even allowed to go back to school, although he was stripped of his prefect status and no longer a candidate for Head Boy.

Hermione wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse since the students went out of their way to shun and avoid him, even the Slytherins. It was the one thing all four houses could agree on, and Hermione was ashamed on behalf of her school. Because she _understood_.

In times of chaos, we cling to what we know, and one of those things that is ingrained into our genetic code is to protect family above all other things. It was why mothers ran back into burning buildings to save their children or why fathers place themselves in front of their family if they expect an attack.

The window had a perfect view of the castle grounds, the lake to the right and the Quidditch pitch to the left.

Every night he sat by the lake.

Every night she watched him.

And she grieved.

For lost innocence, hardships brought too soon, and the death of happier times.

A passing shadow in the night, he went through every day routines like a ghost of the past. Nothing more than an addition to the castle, just as a portrait or a suit of armor would be. He seemed to be wasting away before her very eyes, speaking to no one and saying nothing, and she wanted so much to help him.

In the silver light of evening as she watched was when he truly came alive and she could imagine him clearly as if he was sitting next to her. His eyes like diamonds and platinum-spun hair with skin made of moonbeams and feline grace, he possessed an ethereal beauty only realized in the pale dimness of night. But behind those gems, twin storms raged with winds and clouds that bespoke of tragedy and loss.

Perhaps it was the storms that made him so unapproachable.

The first time she noticed the shift in the weather was when he sat by the lake in his wool cloak rather then his standard-issue school one. It was a subtle difference, but it caught her attention nevertheless. The chill was setting in, but he continued to sit.

Winter would soon arrive.

It might have only been a change in the wind or the bleeding of the seasons, but she decided the time for watching was gone. As she made her way out of the castle and down by his side, she imagined odd things. Such as, how it might have been different if they had been friends and what it might feel like to run her fingers through his hair.

Odd, fanciful things indeed.

Suddenly, she was standing behind him gazing at the back of his head. Realizing she had nothing to say, she took her seat on his right side without a word. He glanced over to see who had joined him but kept his part in the shared silence. She found herself discomfited by his intense scrutiny. Not knowing how else to reach him without speaking and therefore shattering the peace between them, she reached over his leg and took his hand in her lap giving it a slight squeeze.

As he returned the squeeze and the wind picked back up, blowing across the still water and stirring the last of the autumn leaves around them, she knew somehow it would be okay.

A/N: Please leave me a review if you would. The next part should be up in the next day or so.


	2. Winter Crystals Over

A/N: Here's the second part. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter, though I wish I did.

**Winter Crystals Over**

Winter was his favorite season.

So cold and hard and dreary, just like his mood these days, but there was a reason it was his favorite. Along with the ice coating the ground and the wind chilling the air, it brought a mind-numbing coldness to his body and made his blood tingle and his bones ache.

It reminded him that he was alive.

Something he'd had trouble remembering as he floated through day-to-day activities as he'd memorized them after returning to this god-forsaken place that had seen so much of his disgrace. All until she'd come along before the ice arrived. Before the cold could make his blood tingle.

Blood.

It all came back to that single, astonishing substance. Something he'd abided and lived by all his life. The reason he had done so many things, in the name of blood.

But it hadn't saved his mother.

As he was waiting for his exoneration in his role in Dumbledore's death, the news had reached his ears. The Dark Lord had taken his anger over Draco's failure out on Narcissa Malfoy and she had been found dead in the gardens of Malfoy Manor.

So, here he was: seventeen years of age, more or less orphaned, no friends to speak of, ostracized by the school like a pariah, pitied by the teachers, and the only one who had taken the slightest interest in his well-being since his return to school was the one person he'd gone out of his way to ridicule.

Irony really had a way of making things come full circle.

It seemed maybe blood didn't matter so much after all.

She'd sat with him almost every night since the chill first started to set in. Sometimes she couldn't because of her Head Girl duties, but every time he was back to being alone, he knew she would be there if she could.

Sometimes they held hands; other times she'd lean against him with his arm around her shoulders. Once, he'd settled his head in her lap and she'd stroked his hair. She seemed to enjoy that.

The one thing they didn't do was talk. It seemed they had reached a mutual silent agreement to leave the past where it was and only look towards the future without concentrating on any former issues they might have had.

It was refreshing to a boy who had carried the mantle of 'Malfoy' for far too long, a burden that was now his alone.

It was a week before the Christmas holidays when the weather shifted once more. The weather had been getting grayer and the wind chillier since the first night she appeared over a month before, but the castle grounds were now blanketed with a thin carpet of snow and the lake was just starting to ice over.

He continued to sit with only his wool cloak to protect him from the harsh surroundings and nothing to shield his hands.

Less than an hour later, she came, nearly covered from head to toe in her winter clothes complete with hat, scarf, and mittens. This time, however, instead of taking her usual seat by his side, she took his hand and tried to pull him up. When he resisted, the silence between them was broken for the first time.

"Come on, Draco. It's too cold to sit by the lake anymore. You'll catch your death out here," she said from behind the scarf knotted at her chin.

He said nothing in response. She continued to tug at his arm.

"Come on. I have a fire and hot cocoa in my common room."

A strange feeling started to bloom within him, and he had a hard time trying to identify it. At first, he thought she must have put a Warming Charm on her mittens and it was simply seeping into him from where both her hands were clasping his right one, but it wasn't. As she pleaded for him to come with her eyes, he realized he was being shown _human_ warmth for the first time in his entire life.

His parents had loved him because he was a Malfoy, a product of their good breeding. His friends had followed him because he was a Malfoy. People deferred to him because he was a Malfoy, while others hated him or feared him because he was a Malfoy.

Hermione cared because he was _Draco_.

As he put the puzzle together in his mind, he rose gracefully to his feet, intending to follow her back into the castle, and was rewarded with the gift of her smile.

Caught in the moment, he moved her scarf to the side, tipped her chin, and placed his lips softly against hers. She circled her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his assault.

The weather had changed again and so had they.

At the first touch of his tongue to hers, he felt the despair, the resentment, and even his anger, drain out of him as if it had never been there to begin with. It was supplication and sacrilege all in the same breath, a divine sin he was only beginning to master. Seeming lost for so long, it finally felt like he'd been found.

Like he had come home.

They pulled away from each other to draw air back into their bodies and both felt rather lightheaded. For Draco, it had been the single most liberating experience of his life. For Hermione, it was a beautiful vindication.

As one, they joined hands and made for the Heads common room, leaving the cold behind.

A/N: I hope you liked this part. The next one should be up soon. Please leave me a review if you would. :)


	3. The Green Springs Forth

A/N: And here we are, continuing with part three. Carry on, my good readers!

Disclaimer: Why do you keep asking? Nope, don't own it.

**The Green Springs Forth**

They had left the lake.

The common room had become their new meeting place since winter had descended on Hogwarts. Throughout the Christmas holidays and into the second term, they sat in front of the fire and enjoyed the peace they had discovered with each other. Things were better, but some things can only be improved with time. They were so isolated from the rest of the castle, she and him, and they felt it deepen by the day.

Not many words passed between them, and most were from Hermione's end. She would sit and talk about her day, her Head Girl duties, even the homework she needed to complete. It scared her sometimes, to think how much he had withdrawn from the world around them. So vastly different from the arrogant, outspoken boy she had first come across at the beginning of their years at Hogwarts. He was so quiet, so much more cautious.

But he would always answer if she asked him a direct question.

He didn't withdraw from _her_.

Draco would still kiss her sometimes. Usually when she least expected him to, and it did things to her insides, made her feel like she was going insane. And she had so many questions that she knew she would never have the nerve to ask him.

Too afraid of shattering their equilibrium.

But she knew how he felt about her even without asking. She could see the salvation he felt dancing in his eyes when he glanced at her. And the way he clung to her like a lifeline was telling in itself.

Draco needed her.

She did her best to accommodate that, even though her friendship with Harry and Ron was suffering because of it. They had each other plus Ginny and Luna. The war was going in their favor anyway. Draco only had her and she knew it. Sometimes she felt as if he was all she had, too.

They had once retreated to his room when Terry Boot, the Head Boy, had needed the common room for some Ravenclaw gathering he was holding. McGonagall had pulled some strings not long after he'd returned to school so he would have a single outside the Slytherin dormitory. Hermione believed the Headmistress feared the same thing she did.

The other Slytherins would use Draco as an example for his failure.

Upon entering, she had been swamped by waves of green. Everything, from couch pillows to carpet, was painted with different shades of the Slytherin color. It was as if he wanted to wrap himself up in it, as a reminder of who he was and where he came from, even though it seemed like the rest of the world had forgotten.

Hermione found herself changing since that day. Making even more time to be with him, to hold his hand, to just be by his side. She wasn't sure what exactly she was scared of, but she knew it had to do with losing him. That maybe she'd wake up one day and he'd be totally lost to the darkness that appeared to grasp at his edges, and then he'd be gone in the ether where she could not follow.

And she wanted to follow.

She watched as he walked on eggshells all day through classes and ached for him. Every breath she took in his presence made her feel as if her lungs were filled with needles. She just wanted to keep him safe forever.

Small things made her hope for the future. Like when he would smile softly when she went into one of her rants about house-elves and the time he brought her a new quill from his room when she'd broken her favorite one the previous day.

Hermione had a hard time reconciling the boy she knew now to the one that had been. And that's truly how she saw it. Malfoy was gone.

This was Draco.

Try as she might, however, she couldn't help but mourn Malfoy's passing and wanted somehow to resurrect that part of him. The part that could give as good as he got and challenge her until they were both blue in the face. She missed that about him.

The conflict in his gray eyes still raged, but it was a light drizzle now instead of thunderstorms. It soothed her to an extent, but she wanted more. She wanted to calm him, to excite him, to aggravate him.

She wanted an equal.

That's all she saw him as now. The one who held her downfall in the palm of his hands and wasn't even aware of it. Because she didn't fall, she plummeted head first. There was something intangible, something that danced out of her reach, in his eyes, a shining glint, that gave her a secret thrill.

That perhaps he would one day regain his fire.

Then, in a sick twist of fate, he received a letter on Valentine's Day. It contained the news of his father's death in Azkaban. The papers called it a retribution killing.

The glint that epitomized her dreams disappeared altogether.

Draco shut himself away once more, only coming out of his rooms for classes. He stopped speaking completely, not even to her. No one at the castle expressed any sympathy for him, more often saying how he deserved it, and Hermione's heart broke all over again. It was a lesson in human nature she wouldn't soon forget.

For twenty-eight days he locked himself out from the world and she held him every night in his room as he gazed at nothing, too lost for her to connect with him. The next day, he showed up at her common room after dinner and joined her at the window-seat.

On the twenty-ninth day, he cried.

All of the grief, the hurt, and the pain he'd been keeping inside just spilled over from his eyes and washed away his silence. She encircled him in her arms and ran her hands comfortingly through his hair as he let out all the building emotions.

The tightening in her chest gave way, like the laces of a corset had been untied, and she took solace in his release. It was something she knew he needed to do, to succumb to everything he was feeling and let it bring him finality. He could achieve deliverance himself.

She watched the lake from her window as he gripped her sides and buried his tear-stained face in the crook of her neck. The ice and snow from the hard winter was beginning to melt, cleansing the world for renewal. The flowers would soon begin to bloom and what was brown and dull would be green and vibrant once more.

At that moment, she knew her fierce dragon would rise again.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you're still enjoying this story. Please leave me a review and let me know if you would. :)


	4. Summer Thaws The Soul

A/N: This is the fourth and final installment of this series. Hope you like where I went with it and won't be too disappointed. :)

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Harry Potter.

**Summer Thaws The Soul**

The sky was a hazy blue once more.

The only problem, now that summer had returned to Hogwarts, was the atmosphere around the castle had never been grimmer. Fifth and seventh years were all in full-blown preparation for their O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S., and the war had escalated.

Draco was not surprised by this turn of events. He imagined that both sides had realized it was quite bothersome to fight a tactical battle in the ice and snow.

Hermione had been a huge comfort and now they were studying for the exams together. It seemed like no time had passed since that first night at the lake, but he felt as if she was the only person in the world who existed to him.

Potter and Weasley were idiots.

After discovering the increase in attacks, they both decided school was overrated and ran off to fight with the Order. Potter, obviously, was going to be needed at the end, but Draco felt that was no reason to go risk life and limb until it was necessary.

They tried to get Hermione to go with them, of course, but she patiently explained that her place was here as Head Girl. The younger students had to know someone would stay and protect them as many of the older students went off to join the war-effort.

Potter and Weasley had thrown a fit after that, saying she was abandoning them and had turned traitor since she was hanging around him. All in all, their accusations upset her and made her very weary since they had left. Draco had done his best to be as understanding as possible, helping her with her review and keeping her company in the library, but he honestly thought she was better off without them.

He was the only one who _truly_ appreciated her.

Draco could see the fascinating woman she had grown into, no longer just the bookworm or the insufferable know-it-all, but a person who was as caring as she was intelligent. She was beautiful, inside and out.

Sometime he felt like his eyes were burning when he glanced at her, blinded by her goodness, her absolute purity. She was his angel of mercy. He was no longer stuck in perpetual winter. Her warmth had melted all his defenses.

Finally, what was left of the seventh year class sat down to take their N.E.W.T.S. Considering that they'd been preparing for these exams for nearly seven years, it seemed like they passed in a blur. Even Draco and Hermione, who were arguably the two smartest students in the school, had a hard time recalling the questions on the written part or the incantations for the practical.

The next day, they relaxed down at the lake at what had become 'their' spot to let the stress of the past month drain away. It was a calm, languid day making them drowsy as they reclined on the bank and watched the dragonflies skipping along the water's surface.

Draco should have known better.

That night, everything changed.

It came in the form of an innocuous letter, addressed simply 'Hermione Granger, Hogwarts School.' She didn't open it at the dinner table, opting to instead read it in her room once she was secluded away from everyone but him.

Her parents, Hermione's Muggle dentist parents, had been killed. Murdered as a message to Potter that no one was untouchable, not even the families of his friends.

The heavens fell and rain poured down like tears as Hermione collapsed in his arms, great, heaving sobs racking her slight frame as she clung to him, not unlike he did so with her a few months prior.

Draco sympathized with her as he wrapped himself around her, nearly eclipsing her body against his chest. He knew how acute that pain was, knew how blinding it could be.

At the same time, he felt guilty. For not being able to save her from the same fate as him, for not being able to take that pain away, but mostly, he was guilty for his immediate thoughts after she handed him the letter to the sound of her weeping.

She needed him. They were on even ground. He could keep her now.

He so wanted to keep her, to take her away to some remote location and forget the rest of the world existed. He wanted to take her by the hand and never look back. Maybe, maybe.

Nevertheless, that was neither here nor there, and the most important thing was helping her heal. Thankfully, the exams were finished so the news wouldn't distract her, and he knew it would have even though she would've tried her best to put it to the back of her mind as she continued on with her scholastic achievements.

There were only two more weeks until graduation.

During those two weeks, Potter defeated the Dark Lord, all the remaining Death Eaters were captured, and he held her every night as she worked through her grief. He helped her make the arrangements for her parents' burial and even attended the service with her. Draco didn't want her to leave his side. She was the only attachment he had left in this world.

The day before graduation, Potter and company returned to Hogwarts to the symphony of celebratory cheers. Hermione's presence was noticeably absent and they searched her out where Draco was sitting with her in the Head common room on the window-seat, her head tucked under his chin and his arms enfolding her.

They had the audacity, the _audacity_, to insist Hermione should be happy, the war was over, isn't this what they had worked for. Why was she so upset? They're sorry her parents were killed, but the war is over. They can live in peace now.

Draco kicked them out soon after for making her feel guilty that she was still in mourning. He figured, out of all people, Potter would understand, but he supposed that was giving The-Boy-Who-Lived too much credit.

Graduation came and went.

The two of them observed all the rituals of the landmark tradition. Hermione gave the speech she'd written months before as her last duty as Head Girl, certificates were handed out, and class awards were announced. It was a rather unremarkable affair, but the air thrummed with the excitement of victory.

After the crowds dispersed and began to mingle amongst themselves, Hermione approached him.

"Take me away from here, Draco. The air is suffocating me."

Their trunks were already packed up and being sent to their respective homes by the house-elves so there was no reason to stay, no reason to chat, no reason to pretend.

Draco curled his hand underneath her chin and dropped a sweet, chaste kiss on her delicate lips, a brush of skin that made them both tremble at the feeling behind it. He gazed intensely into her coffee eyes, promising her the world in that one look, a vow of forever. They joined hands and walked out the door of the Great Hall.

They never looked back.

**The End**

A/N: Well, that's the end. Love it? Hate it? Tell me all about it in your review. Until next time.


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